My Roots…

…Grow

slowly and slowly they spread,

infinite

and, timid, they feed but do not cease, they devour everything and everything is never enough, they want more.

From my mouth they flow sonorous, they change everything like prose gilded in glinting letters, but pay them no mind… run! hide! they lie, a structureless world cannot be real.

Through my feet they split the concrete, leaving steaming, seething tracks. Through my blood, black and starry like the night, the myths of my existence move densely, written in cosmic ink… my legends. And through my eyes they die, poisoned by nostalgia, drowned by so much reality.

But then…

like spontaneous combustion,

my hands revive them with their boiling touch and through sex they seep out as scalding fluids and my skin becomes drunk on their salt.

They grow, slowly, they continue growing inside and out, they expand furious and furious they burn me, they distance themselves from me, they drink up everything, everything, thirsty and fat, rotund they return.

They burn me, slowly, they burn me,

tangled around my body they penetrate me, my roots

inside and out in a

mortal flame.

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Translated by  Marie Garcia

Before the First Kiss

For me… for me speaks my voice, my nervous fingers, my short memory that needs to think more than once about how to describe this feeling to you, what is and what you cannot understand, that which escapes from my sad eyes in its frustrated attempt at being, even if just for a moment, understood. For me speak my lips, which I bite with every deep sigh, my impatient feet, my lost but attentive gaze, my smile, freely given and honest, and wishing to be reciprocated. For me speak these restless hands to tell you, even through silly gestures, how much I like your eyes, and how much it scares me that I like them so, and my own, my eyes, want to tell you that it doesn’t matter that there are no articulate words, that I don’t need any because my scalding mouth will learn your language with every touch, in every breath there will be a story, and in each kiss… my secrets.

I want you to know, with the clarity of my stilted words, more because of nerves than anything else, that I will give this night to you completely, from the first kiss to the farewell sun, for you to see in every stutter, in every misspoken word, that I am enchanted by your scent, your infinite nose, your crooked eyebrows and the shape of your neck, for my madness about you, about this night, about the rain that won’t let you leave and which I don’t want to end, to last forever, like your gaze that traverses me. You must realize once and for all that I am weakened by you, by your breathing, vulnerable to your hands that deliberately caress mine and by your strange accent that confuses me and interlaces clumsily with my own, that like this, so close, without saying anything, I tell you everything.

For me speaks my native language, my breath, this beating heart that I hand over to you, my foreign past and my present now with you, my uttered lies, my hidden truths, my reason for being right here on this night, and in short, and before stealing the first kiss … my desire.

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Translated by  Marie Garcia

My Harvest Moons

Sometimes, my eyes become huge like two moons and want to absorb everything, and everything seems to fit inside them. Their lashes scrape against the wind with every blink and my eyebrows raise disdainfully like the legs of a ballerina, my nose wrinkles up mystically, the volcanoes beneath my cheekbones explode and I bite my lips, thirsty for honey, hungry for warmth and another’s lips. Now and again, I forget about the imagined monsters and the ghosts of faraway houses, then my back straightens, arching ambitiously, my hips become promiscuous dancers and my defiant alabaster legs break through fears with every step. Some nights, I do not recognize myself and prefer not to, I only want to let myself be carried away by the sudden bubbling impulse that inebriates me. At times my moons become so restless that they, like lighthouses, curiously scan the streets, bars, and seas of other moons for mutual desire. Nothing troubles me but everything seduces me, corrupts me, and reduces me to the ultimate puzzle seeking to be solved, only between another’s sheets.

That’s why, when you see my moons light up like this, like comets, sparkling and rotund with secrets, as if it were October in the middle of May and all of my vernal skin could be contained in a dry autumn leaf, do not avert your gaze for an instant, hold it firm, challenging me, bite your lips and take me away with you, because this will be the only night that I… belong to you. 

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Translated by  Marie Garcia